


À la vie, à la mort

by LordFlausch



Series: araignée du soir [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Combat, Established Relationship, F/F, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, assumed death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordFlausch/pseuds/LordFlausch
Summary: You and Widowmaker have been in a relationship for a few months, which proves to have hardships as you are an Overwatch Hero and she literally is your enemy. Also, the fact she enjoys marking her territory hasn’t gone unnoticed by Tracer. Someday, you will have to tell your best friend. But things take an unexpected turn.





	À la vie, à la mort

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is: One of the fanfics I'm the most proud of since it ultimately started what I think about as the happiest month of my life so far. A lot of great memories I have is due to this work. So I hope you'll like it!
> 
> And yes, this has officially been written a while ago on tumblr, as my entry for a fanfic contest. But just now, the timeline of my other Oneshots has reached this point.

Out on a mission, again. A slight hope to see your lover creeps inside of you, especially after what happened last time. 

_Technically seen, she abducted me._  
_And on the other hand, she made it worth the while._

You chuckle but cannot help the slight blush starting to cover your face, and a soft giggle escapes your lips when you think of her. But after all, maybe you won't get to catch a glimpse of her as she will have to focus just the same as you. On the same objective... unfortunately on different sides, with different goals. You wanted to protect some ambassador, Talon wanted her death. But you knew that from the start, that whatever you two do when you were at your home or somewhere else in private, that you will still have to stay antagonists out in the open. 

_Loving an enemy... I have really got a problem. But yet.. sometimes, I still get to feel a hint of how she was in the past. What we could have been back then... which is sad on the one hand, on the other I'm just glad I can be with the one I love... and who loves me. At least as much as she can. I should let her explain what exactly she feels one day._

“What are you thinking about? Your secret sweetheart?”

Tracer's teasing voice sounds close to your ear, and you jerk away in surprise. 

“Gosh, don't scare me like that!”

She giggles and raises an eyebrow.

“I asked you a question, love.”

You blink once, a bit confused, and then remember what she exactly said.  
… and can't help but think about Amélie's reaction when you would call her sweetheart.  
To which, you obviously have to start laughing fits. 

_Merely...this imagination... goodness, her face..._

You almost start crying in delight, while your friend just looks at you, face twisted in confusion and a bit of concern, which only increases when you bend over to hold your stomach.

“Is... everything okay?”

You gain control of yourself long enough to stutter a few words beyond your laughs, almost inaudible, but you are positive Tracer can catch them.

“I... just imagined... her expression... if I'd ever... call her that...”

The brunette nods slowly.

“When will you finally tell me more about her?”

_Judging by the fact you are her nemesis, probably never._

“Oh, maybe when we're back from the mission.”

“I sure hope so, love! I want to know who this mysterious girl is who managed to get you move past Amélie Lacroix and steal your heart then.”

She winks at you once and on the inside, you wince slightly. 

_Fuck you, darling._  
_You gave me the hickeys that set her off on our relationship._  
_To which her answer would be “You didn't complain back then, chérie.” whispered in such a low voice I couldn't be mad at her longer. Followed by her kissing my neck._  
_Followed by..._  
_OKAY ENOUGH, FOCUS ON THE MISSION AT HAND!_

“Something wrong, love?”

Your head snaps up, alarmed, and you bang it on the aircraft's wall behind the seat you're on. A searing pain erupts where you hit it, and you groan in agony.

“Oh no, sorry!”

You wave it off, it wasn't fully her fault after all, but also your mind's.  
You spend a few minutes in silence together, with Tracer humming something after a while. 

“So... what's your task?” 

“I have to take care of her back. Follow the main group to make sure no one comes from behind.”

“So you'll keep aaaaall of us safe? What a hero.”

You chuckle shortly and nod. Your second mission as not an agent anymore. While at the first you were pretty much... distracted... there's no real way for you and Amélie to get some privacy this time, as unfortunate as that is. You sigh. 

“To remind you, take utmost care. There are still, like, 30.000 people in that town.”

“I know, and I will do my best not to hurt any of them. I want to stay as one of you, after all.”

She smiles and salutes almost jokingly.

“That's great to hear. Give your all to keep Talon at bay... well, there is no real hope they won't be there, eh?”

“Not really. Guess they'll follow us the whole way... Possibly even back to her place.”

“That's why another team is set up right there! Don't worry, love.”

“I swear, if you say “cavalry's here” right now I will-”

“You will what?”

“I'll see what I'll do then.”

“Cavalry's here!”

You deadpan, she laughs, and after a while, you join her, enjoying the remaining flight in a good atmosphere with slight banter and her occasionally teasing you about your lover, to which you sometimes manage to muster up a comeback – and when it's enough for you, you just threat her with showing really embarrassing photos of her to Emily. To which she seemingly finds her ability to shut up for a second before quickly changing the subject.  
When the pilot's voice says you're almost there and should prepare for the landing, the both of you get ready, and when it is safe on the ground, you get off and wait for the ambassador to come. 

“Look, the others are over there!”

Mercy and Reinhardt stand closer to the entrance of the shelter, and motion for you to come over. Tracer zaps up immediately, while you walk slower, as you still rather have solitude and staying by yourself.  
Your friend has them engaged in conversation, and with a neutral expression, you join them, acknowledging their presence with a nod.

“She should be there soon.”

“You'll be the only man than, hm?”

“I guess some of the supporting agents are men as well.”

You chuckle, and for the first time, say something.

“You sure? I mean, the lady's changing rooms were always pretty full after a mission…”

Lighthearted laughter comes from the other two heroes, and Reinhardt snorts and turns away for a second, towards the entrance. Noticing movement, you turn there as well. Your assigned charge is there together with some security women.  
Tracer pokes your side.

“If the assigned agents are all female as well, I will laugh.”

“Same for me.”

You whisper back, and a slight tap on both of your shoulders makes you glance at Mercy, who just smiles and nods, mouthing a silent “Count me in.”  
When the Overwatch agents join you, you are a slight bit disappointed that your plan wouldn't work. However, there are more important things to do now.

“Are you ready?”

Reinhardt's deep voice sounds in your ear, and when he got an affirming answer from everyone, he orders to get in position, and 10 agents come to you to help you in your work. You nod at them, and they nod back. To the German's signal, you start the mission.

\---

The streets behind stay relatively empty, sure, there is a Talon agent on occasion, but nothing really serious. You wonder where the trio of enemies is, especially Widowmaker. Just catching a slight look at her would make things better, but no luck. You activate your comlink.

“Is more activity with you up ahead? Because we're having a relatively easy game here.”

After a moment, Tracer replies, with obvious gunfire in the background.

“The party's over here! Reaper and Sombra are giving us some hard time!”

“Stay where you are, _____! It might be they only want this!”

“Understood. Do you need more agents? I could send some over!”

“One or two would be good.”

“Aye.”

You order three rather experienced agents over to the main group, so that if one of them got hurt, another could stay with them and the third would move to get help. They take off with some speed, and you stay at the back with the 7 remaining. 

“What is going on in the front?”

One of them asks nervously. Right. They weren't on the leading channel, only on smaller ones.

“Reaper and Sombra, together with some agents.”

“I wonder if Widowmaker is there as well... She's always creeping me out.”

You chuckle and shoot another Talon member when the next small wave distracts you from the conversation.

“She's one hell of a sniper, I have to admit.”

_And one hell of a lover as well._

“Maybe she's just waiting for the right moment to strike...”

Fear sounds in the agent's voice, but you shrug, remembering a certainty and trying to comfort him with that.

“She has one shot before we know where she is. She isn't one to waste it on one of us, she'd try to get the target. That's how I know her.”

“You know her?!”

“I stood face to face with her quite often.”

 _Technically seen, I didn't always stand._

“And you survived every time?! How incredible. I always thought we couldn't stand a chance against that... cold-blooded bitch!”

You wince slightly at the curse, yet it is plausible they're calling her names. You are the real one who's weird here. Actually, you kinda commit treason against Overwatch by loving her. Yet stopping is not an option.

“No, I obviously didn't survive. The reason I'm standing here.”

Light chuckles come in answer to your sentence, and you join after a while, but have to interrupt when another wave comes forth.

“Impressive. How did you survive?”

“Going into cover. Keeping track of where she was. Sheer luck.”

The lie glides off of your tongue effortlessly. She, during the last months, never had the goal to kill you. Always missing barely, close enough to think she really missed, far enough away for you to know she aimed so she wouldn't hit you. She never apologised for those bullets, but her actions have sometimes told you she had regretted having to shoot at you.  
Your comlink awakens on the lesser channel so all can hear.

“She's safe! Retreat and we'll meet at the assigned spot. Winston has the rest covered. Great job, all of you!”

Grinning, you nod towards your group and all of you head away to meet the team. When you arrive, you smirk, having thought of a revenge for the quote earlier. You sneak up to Tracer, lean close and whisper into her ear.

“Bonjour, chérie.”

Imitating Widowmaker the best you can.  
She shrieks shortly, jumps up and draws her gun while you burst into laughter again, and the group joins you.

“Veeeeery funny, ____.”

“Consider my “I'll see what I'll do then.” done.”

You say with a wink, and she growls a bit, to which you can only chuckle. 

“_____, I have to thank you for the agents you sent. One of them protected Ms Meyer from a presumably lethal shot... sadly, the bullet took his own.”

You acknowledge both with a slow nod.

“How many casualties have we?”

“1 security woman. 7 agents.”

Mercy sounds sad, so you go to her and place your hand on her shoulder.

“No one could have helped better than you.”

“I couldn't save them...”

“You could save the remaining. You did your best. Death is a part of our lives.”

She nods sadly and you pat her shoulder a bit awkwardly, as you two don't really know each other. When you step away, she offers you a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

You return her smile shortly, and when everyone is done, you leave for the waiting aircraft together, flying back to the HQ, happy over the success of the mission's first part, joking with each other and silently praying the other team will do as well as you did.  
When you have arrived, you decide to stay there for a while, using the available showers to refresh and dress in your other uniform to write a small report before joining the others in the main room. 

“Any news from Winston?”

“They have succeeded. And apparently, Torbjörn has great news for us.”

You grin happily, although that means Amélie will probably be a bit more rough on your next meeting. Not that you'd mind. She at least always took care she didn't hurt you too much, neither physically nor emotionally. And she always made sure you were enjoying yourself as well. Smiling softly, the warm feeling of love settles in your stomach.  
When the other team bursts through the door, they are greeted with glee. 

“Now, sit down and tell us. What's up?”

Torbjörn chuckles and takes a seat, the Winston, Ana and McCree following. He grins and leans back before opening his mouth with a tone you can hear the approval inside.

“Ana is officially the best sniper again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Widowmaker is dead.”

Your heart shatters, your face turning into a mask of shock while the others start asking questions over and over.

“How did you manage?”

“Are you sure?”

“So Amélie Lacroix is finally at peace?”

The small man chuckles and motions for all to calm down, and you only half-heartedly listen to his next words.

“She was on a high tower of an exhibition in the museum, and her shot missed Meyer by only an inch. And I registered where it was from and fired at it. There's no way in hell she could have survived that crash and the explosion in the building she fell in. Apparently, there had been a gas leak... Lady was torn to shreds.”

“Along with some civilians. But the leak was not his fault. It seems, the explosion happened just in the moment the tower crashed. Independent occurrences.”

Your throat is dry. You cannot breathe correctly. And you cannot leave, otherwise, you would unmask your whole relationship.

_Dead._

Your tears threaten to spill while the others congratulate Torbjörn for that kill.

_DEAD._

You suppress a sob and clench your hands to fists when they show security footage that shows a strand of blue hair falling into a raging fireball.

_DEAD!_

You excuse yourself for the toilet in a soft voice, and as soon as you leave the room, run away to the rooftop where you are sure no one will find you too soon.  
There, your mask collapses and you fall to your knees, sobbing in agony while tears wet your face.  
Hands pressed to your chest, you scream her name into the night.  
You have seen the truth. No way she could have survived. No way she would ever stand in your apartment again. No way you would ever be able to hold her close again. No way you would see her again.

_“Je t'aime, chérie.”_

Another pained scream leaves your lips, and another and another between sobbing and whispers of her name. When your throat is so sore no word could now leave it again, you just curl up on the ground, hoping that something could now just appear and kill you.

But first, you have to get away from the place where anyone could find you now... and your secret would be revealed. Shakily, you stand up and exit the roof via the fire escape, albeit you have to hold onto the railing not to fall down on the ground. For a moment, you really consider just... jumping off. Escaping this pain you feel, the darkness of losing her again, and this time forever. There is no hope anymore. She isn't just presumed dead. She IS dead, permanently.  
You sob and lean onto the balustrade, breathing in the cool air.

_She would have loved this night._

“Amélie...” 

Your voice is broken, hoarse, and it hurts to speak. Whereas... it hurts to do anything. Ending this really seems plausible, to be reunited when death does not part.

_But what would she have said?_  
_She would have called me a lovesick fool and that I should step away from the railing if I didn't want some extraordinary punishment._  
_Or she would have stepped behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me against her and after a while, kissed my neck or the top of my head._  
_She would've..._  
_She would not want this._

Further tears flow down your cheeks and you step away from the railing, walking down the escape. Out on the street, you head for your apartment swiftly, continuing to cry, continuing to walk unsteadily, continuing to bend over so that no one could see who you were.  
You feel their weird looks though.  
A calm night. Couples are out on dates. Dates you would never be able to go on.  
The next sob escapes your lips and a hand takes yours from the side. You whisk around and stare into the curious eyes of a child, probably 10 or younger, who looks at you through curious blue eyes. 

“Are you okay?”

The question baffles you.

“No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“My lover...”

“Did he break up with you? If he did, I'll punch him for making a pretty girl like you cry!”

You chuckle shortly and sigh.

“She... she was... killed in an explosion.”

“Your lover was a girl?!”

You smile softly to his confusion, although the expression does not reach your eyes.

“A very beautiful girl. Whom I loved with my whole heart for a lot of years. I still do.”

“How does that work? With two...?”

Another chuckle leaves your lips to the childish curiousness of the kid.

“Dunno. Just know it does. It's normal like breathing for me. Ever heard of Tracer?”

“SURE! She is my greatest idol!”

“And she also has a girlfriend.”

“Damn, I wanted to marry her when I was grown...”

You laugh and wipe some of your tears away.

“I'll tell her in case.”

“You know her?! How awesome!”

“She's my best friend and teammate.”

“So you're in Overwatch as well! Wooooaah.”

You nod shortly, and the boy's face enlightens and he seems enthusiastic, grinning at you widely.

“That's soooo awesome!”

You smile at him and look out on the street.

“Say, little one... where are your parents?”

“At home. I just watched a movie with my brother... and he said I should wait for him inside the cinema as he wanted to get us some chocolate from the store and it's so late. But... I saw you and you looked really sad.”

“He must be worried.”

Just when the boy wants to reply, a teen in a hoodie comes running around a corner, shouting a name over and over. He looks enough alike with him for you to presume he is, in fact, the lost brother. When he spots you, his eyes narrow and he storms over. 

“What were you doing with my brother?!”

“It was not her fault, Brian, I ran after her!”

“Timmy! You shouldn't talk to strangers!”

“But... but she looked so sad and I though I may help! And plus, she knows Tracer! She's in Overwatch!”

The teen looks up to you unbelieving, face still displaying mistrust. You gesture that you mean no harm. 

“I would have started to search for you together with him. That seemingly isn't necessary anymore.”

His eyes widen to your croaky voice and puffy eyes, and he awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

“I sound terrible, don't I?”

You remark almost sarcastically, knowing the sound of your real voice too well and registering the difference. Broken. Silent. Shaky. Weak.  
He shakes his head apologetically and clears his throat. Timmy pulls him down and whispers “Her girlfriend died today.” into his ear, albeit he is loud enough for you to hear it as well. His eyes widen in shock and then get soft with empathy.

“I'm very sorry.”

“Why do you apologise? It's not your fault.”

You swallow and a tear appears in your left eye now that everything boils up again, which you wipe away quickly and place a fake, weak smile on your face.

“Go home, you two. Your parents will miss you.”

Brian nods and pulls Timmy along with him, but you register the worried looks they give you shortly before moving around a corner.  
The remaining way to your apartment flies, you almost not register it until your feet stop in front of your door. You mechanically take out the key and unlock it, take off shoes and jacket and take a seat on the couch. Something pink catches your eye. When you pick it up, you see what it is.

_A tank top. She forgot it here one day. She... she..._

You burst into tears again, clutching the clothing to your chest. It still smells like her, so you cry even harder. Even when your tears are empty and only choked sobs leave your throat, you still stay there and just let yourself fall down into this agony.  
Your telephone rings. You don't stand up to take the call. In the time you lay there, all of your possible contacting devices go off at least three times each, but not once do you move. You just cry. As soon as another tear is there, it falls. You don't know the time anymore, and you don't care.

_Dead. Gone._

A hoarse scream leaves your lips. After that, it is silent. Too silent. Normally, she would have been there now to spend the night. But not today. She will never come back again. 

After a while, someone knocks on the entrance rather sharp and urgent. You don't answer. There is no energy left.  
You hear the sound of a key and a door opening, and quick steps in your hallway. Who has a spare key? Overwatch should have one. And the lessor. 

“I know you're here, love. And I know you're awake.”

Tracer sounds all serious, but yet you don't utter a word, just clutch the top tighter and let another set of tears flow.  
She moves through the apartment, looking into bedroom and kitchen before spotting your form on the couch.

“Love? Is everything okay?”

You choke out a sob and coil up further before shaking your head.

“Hey, what's the matter?”

She sits next to you on your sofa and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“My girlfriend...”

“Did she break up with you? I swear to god-”

“She was in the Museum today.”

_Technically, not a lie._

“Fuck.”

In all of your years of friendship, you've never heard her curse one single time. 

“But there were only so few casualties... Are you 100% sure she...”

You nod shortly and press the top even closer to you.

“What was she even doing there?”

“Something for her job. Didn't ask.”

“She worked in museums?”

“Sometimes.”

“Did you never talk about it?”

“Not really. We could rarely really meet up, so we were too occupied with... other things.”

A slight pink covers your friend's face and you chuckle a bit to that. She strokes your shoulder gently before pulling you up and in a hug, which you return after a while, starting to cry again. 

“She would've been here now... I miss her so much...”

“I know...”

Tracer gently rubs your back and helps you get to your bed as fast as possible, and then lies down with you and starts to cuddle. 

“Promise you'll stay around?”

“I'll try.”

“What would she have said?”

“She'd have called me a fool and ordered me to stay, otherwise she would have to personally come and kill me again.”

“Sounds... exquisite.”

You chuckle.

“She was exquisite. Wonderful cook, great in cuddling... although her feet and hands were always cold...”

_Duh. The rest of her body as well._

“…beautiful, best voice ever, not to mention certain other things... And she needed to warm up a bit first because her last relationship ended rather poorly, so she rarely showed real emotion... but when she did, it was as if... a single real smile of her just pulled my heart closer to her.”

“She sounds like... she fitted you.”

“We both were of that opinion as well.”

Tracer laughs and rubs your back again. 

“I think I would've enjoyed meeting her.”

_You definitely wouldn't have. You met her quite often and it always ended with you two trying to kill each other._

“Possibly.”

After a while of rather comfortable silence, you fall asleep into nightmares of Amélie dying over and over again. Every time you are waking up in screams, your friend is there to comfort you. She stays the whole night, at which end you feel as if you hadn't gotten any sleep whatsoever.  
Still, Tracer makes a full English Breakfast and watches you eat all of it, claiming “As long as I'm around, you will not starve yourself.” You have no choice but follow that order.

“Did Emily know you'd come over?”

“Yup. Also, I texted her when you first fell asleep and explained part of the situation. She was totally fine with it.”

You nod once and look at her in despair.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“I don't know...”

\---

It took months for you to even dare go near the Overwatch HQ again. In the first weeks, Tracer and Emily had you move in with them as your friend made quite clear she didn't trust you not to try anything stupid. Their support helped you a lot, and when you felt a bit better, you loaded yourself with work to focus your mind on other things than the giant, bleeding wound in your heart.  
It was only paperwork at first, although with the constant help of the other agents who tried their best to cheer you up for a while. The concept of being out on a battlefield was foreign to you, until you took all your guts together and trained again. When you returned on duty, everyone was relieved. 

So now you're out in the open, waiting for Talon agents to show up, on a roof so you could jump down with surprise on your side. Actually, a rather suicidal mission. But no matter how much you acted, this emptiness inside of you... you simply lost care for your own life.  
There they are. You tense your muscles to jump down.

“Did you miss me, chérie?”

Your head snaps up and you turn around slowly.

_BLOODY. FUCKING. HELL._

Your legs give out under you when you see her standing 5 metres away. You can't manage a word. Just stare in shock. Your breathing becomes rapid and shaky.

“...how...”

“Somehow.”

She replies and an almost soft look covers her face. She slowly starts walking towards you, carefully, almost as if she didn't want to startle you further. Your eyes keep glued to her and you sob once, a hand covering your mouth. 

“Chérie, I can explain...” 

You sob again when the door to the rooftop flies open.

“____, THIS IS A SUICIDE M-”

Tracer stops dead in her tracks and draws her guns at Amélie, eyes narrowing in anger and threat.

“You should be dead.”

“Surprise.”

Her eyebrow is raised almost mockingly, and the first tears start to flow as another sob escapes your lips, drawing all attention to you for a moment.  
Amélie advances further, but Tracer's aim stops her.

“Move away from ____. Immediately.”

You shake your head and stand up, a slight bit of anger overtaking your senses.

“No. Lena, this is between her and me.”

Confused, your friend lowers her gun, and you walk towards your lover, rage boiling up. You stop dead in your tracks just centimetres apart and glare at her.

“YOU BITCH!”

With that yell, you slap her ( _perfect_ ) cheek, making her head whisk to the side and her taking a step back.

“I deserved that.”

Her slightly amused tone makes everything worse.

“HOW COULD YOU FUCKING DO THIS TO ME?! I GUESS I WOULD'VE DESERVED A SINGLE WORD OR ANYTHING, BUT APPARENTLY MADAME THINKS SHE DOESN'T NEED THAT. HAVE YOU GOT ANY FUCKING IDEA HOW DEPRESSED I WAS? HECK, I COULD BE DEAD BY NOW. EVER HEARD OF WRITING LETTERS? OR SLIPPING NOTES BELOW DOORS? OR PHONE BOOKS? WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAVE A SINGLE HINT YOU WERE NOT GONE? TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION: I FUCKING MISSED YOU. I GRIEVED FOR YOU UP UNTIL TWO MINUTES AGO. YOU-”

“Chérie, I couldn't-”

You efficiently silence her by moving forward, grabbing her neck and smashing her lips with yours. Her shock lasts for not even a mere second before she wraps her arms around you and returns the kiss with a passion that makes your rage turn to mush. When she draws her hands over your lower back with just the right pressure to tell you she's real, and her tongue lightly taps at your lips, you moan softly and drag your own over it, deepening the kiss while your tears flow again in a mix of despair and joy. 

“I fucking love you.”

You mutter in the kiss and deepen it shortly before letting go and resting your head on her shoulder, keeping your bodies close and sobbing into her neck while she rubs your back almost gently.

“Tu m'as manquée aussi.”

You turn your head towards Tracer, who just stands there with her jaw agape, pistols dropped to the ground in shock. 

“She... she is... she is your...”

You nod slowly with your eyes closed, still relishing the fact you're in her arms again.

“How could you...?”

“It sorta just happened. I'll explain later.”

Your friend nods slowly, still shocked, picking up her pistol and walking back to the door to the roof as if in a trance. When it has closed behind her, you hear Amélie chuckling, feeling the vibrations on your cheek. 

“Seems she is capable of shutting up for a moment, at least.”

“We probably scarred her for life.”

Another, lower chuckle resonates through her body, and you press yourself a bit closer to it.

“I cannot be sorry for that.”

“Me neither. I got you back.”

One of her hands wanders up to your neck and she kisses your forehead almost gently. 

“Why so affectionate today?”

“We're almost in privacy.”

“We're out on a fucking roof.”

“Stop the cursing already.”

“As you wish, Madame.”

She chuckles another time, slowly forcing your chin up to kiss you again, tongue stroking yours immediately, and you place your hands on the sides of her face and stand on your toes to press yourself closer before breaking the kiss and looking into her eyes with a slightly sharp expression.

“And now, sweetheart, I believe you have a lot of explaining to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> French translations:
> 
> À la vie, à la mort - To life, to death  
> Bonjour - Hello  
> Je t'aime - I love you  
> Tu m'as manquée aussi - I missed you too


End file.
